Summer nights
by Morte Mistrata
Summary: Keith and Shiro spend a summer night together before Shiro has to go off to Kerberos. Some things are said.


The heat has him restless. Lying there in his bed, it feels like he's lying underneath a black sun; the light is gone, but the heaviness of the air is still there, almost imperceptible until he tries to close his eyes. Keith sits up. The sheets, specially designed to cool down body temperature, fall away as he stands and slips out of bed. The wooden floors beneath his feet are still warm from the lingering sun, and smoothed clean by the sandy wind. It feels good to feel them again; it's been so long since he's been home.

The Garrison doesn't like to give shore leave, as the students call it, and because of that, it's been nearly a year since he's been able to sleep in his own bed. More than that, he's missed being able to wake up in the middle of the night to grab a snack without receiving an infraction for it.

Keith follows the small hallway to the kitchen, with it's old fashioned refrigerator and sand covered floor, and opens the freezer. A cold gust of air blows into his face as he leans inside. There's not much in there. A few frozen vegetables, and some ice, but behind those, he sees the carton, half hidden by ice.

It burns his fingers as he grabs it and places it on the counter. As he reaches up for a bowl, his hand presses against the freezer door, slamming it shut loudly. He freezes like a deer caught in the headlights as he waits. Has he been heard?

His answer comes in the sound of something crashing in the bedroom, and a moment later, Shiro stumbles into the kitchen too.

"What're you doing up so late?"

"Or early." Keith says, deciding to forego the bowl and just eat directly from the carton. "Depends on how you want to look at it."

Shiro pulls out a dented kitchen chair and sits down. His shirt sticks to his skin where the cooling blankets didn't touch, and already a few drops of sweat accumulate at his brow. "Either way, why are you eating ice cream?"

Keith shrugs and offers him a spoon. "Because I can."

Shiro watches him for a moment, as if gauging the validity of his answer. Finally, he shrugs and takes it from him gingerly. "Good enough for me."

Keith pops off the lid and drops the carton between the two of them before sliding into the chair beside him. He stabs the ice scream vigorously, and scoops an oversized spoonful into his mouth. The taste of strawberries melts on his tongue, and for a moment, it all seems so simple and normal, as if Shiro isn't spending his last few days on Earth with him, as if this isn't one of the last few memories he'll get to make with him, as if everything isn't about to change.

He stabs another spoonful. "Is it hot or cold in space?"

Shiro holds the spoon like a lollipop, and licks it clean. "You know the answer to that already. You had a test on the concept a month ago."

"Will the ice cream taste the same up there?" _Where the ice cream is not cold, and there's no summer sun and I'm not there to wake you up at 3 a.m. to eat it?_

Sweat drips into his eyes. Shiro blinks it away. "No, it won't be nearly as good."

The next spoonful doesn't seem as sweet, and it occurs to him that it doesn't taste at all like actual strawberries. He stands up, and drops his spoon in the sink.

"It'll taste even better when I come back." Shiro offers, as he stands and hands the bucket over. Keith slides it onto the counter and catches his wrist.

"Do you promise that it'll be worth the wait? Because if this goes wrong, if you get hurt, or die out there, will it still have been worth the wait." The words spill out of Keith's mouth as if the damn stopping all of the words from escaping his brain has been broken. He's not sure if it's the lack of sleep that's caused his loss of inhibition, or if it's just that their words are so veiled, but whatever it is, he can't stop himself from speaking.

Shiro pulls him into a hug, and even though they're both sticky from the heat, and the smell of sweat lingers on their skin, neither of them breaks away.

"I'd promise you my summer, and find a way to give it you if it meant you'd come home safely." Keith whispers into Shiro's arm. "I'd give you the heat, and the sand and all of the good things and all of the bad things too."

Finally, Shiro pulls back. Hooking a finger under Keith's chin, he lifts his head up and forced him to meet his gaze. "I'm coming home just fine. Seven hundred and thirty-two days. That's the only price you'll have to pay."

Outside of the kitchen window, the sun is rising. Hot, and yellow, it draws pictures against the sand with the shadows of the plants outside. Keith sniffs, and slips his hand into Shiro's. "Let's just go back to sleep."

Shiro nods, and follows him back through that short hallway to the room with the mattress and no bed frame, sits down beside him as they brush the sand from their feet, and slides beneath the cold protection of the blankets. Before Keith lays back down, Shiro presses a gentle kiss to his mouth and smiles. "You taste just like the sun, and I promise that'll be enough."


End file.
